Two Special Ordinary Boys
by Dean's Bakery
Summary: The brothers set up camp in a motel room, as usual. Except this time there is a previously occupied tenant and a curious one at that! Narration by an OC. Set just after S4x01, no major spoilers except for the ones till said episode. It's my first two-shot. Rated T because Dean has less qualms and is more expressive when miffed :D Completed!
1. Chapter 1

**Hello my lovely readers and also my fellow-Supernatural enthusiasts!**

**I was thinking of making this a one-shot but it was starting to get too cluttered and clumped, so I decided to (hopefully) complete it in two parts.**

**This story was inspired from a dream I had of a scene depicting a very distressed Dean on the verge of tears with Sam trying to get him to tell him what was the matter. Then, boop! I woke up. I don't like the brothers in pain or suffering so I decided to write this fic about it, hopefully giving it a better end that the abrupt one I had for a dream. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or anything or anyone related to it; I do own the plot of my story and everything that comes with it :)**

**And please forgive me if I get any historical details wrong- it's not my strong subject, though it does get me interested every time!**

**Please please please review! Teddy Dean and Teddy Sam to whoever does so :D**  
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They were different from the others that had come earlier to stay the night.

The others had fled in sheer terror every time I tried to ask for help. My room soon gained a reputation which often made most patrons avoid it totally. Even though it was in a very convenient spot- adjacent to the diner, close by the parking lot and the best part- my room had windows on two walls instead of one as is the usual case in a highway motel. But what kind of a person in his right mind would want to bunk in a room that already had a permanent tenant?

I was bound to the room ever since I'd died in there on one of the two beds. It was a bad case of influenza.

Three centuries ago, this was not even a motel. It had been my house and the place had been a farm where I was born and grew up. This room was the one I shared with my sister till my passing. Even after that, she had kept it the way I had always wanted. Sadly, she never noticed me watching over her when some illness had afflicted her, or saw me dance in joy when she brought home good news from school. She had always been the brighter one of us. I was the artistic one.

Even though the house changed owners many times, one of my paintings always remained behind. It was the one I had made for my sister and presented it to her on her fourteenth birthday, the last I had celebrated with her. It was a scene of what I believed we looked like when we used to play on our farm as kids. I had committed the scene to memory and had painted my sister and me sitting on the grassy patch in our backyard on a summer day. She loved it.

Though she was younger than me by two years, she'd always taken care of me. I was a sickly child and couldn't go to school as much as I wanted to. My sister always had some interesting stories to tell me and I lived my school life through her retelling of the events that took place there. They had to leave the place when our parents decided to move towns. They sold our farm and our house to the government. My sister wouldn't let me stay by myself so she got my remains cremated and let my ashes be taken by the river that ran by our plot. She knew I loved being near water and tales of mermaids always captured my fascination.

I hope she had a beautiful life.

My room was usually the last choice. Or set up for pranks which usually backfired once I meddled with the idiot jokers' stuffs that were usually set up to get some unsuspecting ones. Most times I got my much needed laugh out of seeing the clowns bid a hasty retreat. Much as I was lonely, I'd never walk in on the nice ones. They were good people who deserved a good night's sleep.

Sometimes, however I'd forget and unintentionally wake them from their blissful slumber. Of course they never heard or noticed my apologies once they took to their heels madly, screaming at the top of their lungs.

And I'd be alone, sometimes for weeks or months before another tenant would come by and I'd resort to huddling in a dark corner of the closet to avoid being caught. Most times it worked.

Tonight it was going to be different. I felt it and was sure of it even though I couldn't explain how. A ghost's premonition perhaps. Sounds far-fetched but I'll settle with it for now.

They came in casually, talking about trivial things and occasionally laughed at some old joke. The bond between the two of them was so pure and deep- it was evident that they were brothers even though they didn't look much alike.

Their eyes however, reflected the same sense of vulnerability and devotion to each other, regardless of the tough unyielding outlook of the older one and the silent stubborn streak of the younger one. That is another thing I can't explain, I just knew it from looking at them. It's a thing I'm born with. Was.

No sooner had they settled in I felt every wisp in my spiritual body halleluiah-ing at finding that I had been right about them. Oh they sure were different.

The weapons they had laid on their bed were pretty impressive. The older one was meticulously cleaning and polishing them while the younger one was doing some tapping on one of those modern boards with letters on them. They came with a window that was always lighted up and sometimes the pictures in them moved.

I was fascinated by this alphabet-board that came with that little window from the first time I had seen one of them. In my excitement to learn about it I had scared the living daylights of the tenant who owned it. In making his escape he had dropped the contraption on the bare floor and had stomped on it in his frenzied rush.

So much for a lesson.

As the younger one- Sam, I heard his name being called by the older one repeatedly- scrunched up his face in concentration trying to ignore his brother's silly quips I felt warmth radiating from my chest. I found the older brother quite endearing to be honest. And he had the name that suited him perfectly just like his brother. Dean.

In spite of being so different just like their looks, their names suited them perfectly. I hovered around the room trying my best not to draw any attention to myself. But like I said earlier, they were different.

And I wasn't fooling anyone.

"_Sam, you feel that?"_ Dean asked as he quickly assembled his gun and looked around the room, his stance as ready and tensed like a tiger about to strike.

"_Yeah. It's no mere draft."_ Sam replied slowly, reaching for a jar housing some fine white grains, and assuming a stark alert stance.

I couldn't help but giggle. I meant them no harm and yet they were poised to fight the weak specter of a sixteen year old girl. I thought I'd fleet around them and get a closer look on their suspicious goofy faces.

But that was not to be. Their previously undecided faces were looking towards me with perfect accuracy. Correction, they were looking _at_ me.

In my foolish juvenile naivety I had made myself faintly visible to them and it filled me with an overwhelming sense of dismay since I was sure that all that was left to happen was them screaming and running about in wild flurry and perhaps clonk their beautiful faces together.

Yes, that has happened before.

I winced slightly, smiling as the silly possibility delighted me.

"_She seems harmless…"_ the younger yet taller one observed.

"_And from way back."_ the older, fragile faced one stated, _"She seem… what, 1600-ish to you?"_

Dean had an amusing way of talking. But I understood he was not being disrespectful since there was an absence of any hint of superciliousness in his eyes.

"_1709 to be precise."_ I smiled at them, earning a sharp jump from the two, which made me laugh heartily.

They fixed on their warring faces again as one brother aimed the gun at me and the other began to turn the lid on the jar. I was filled with a heavy sense of sadness. I didn't want to scare them away or put up a senseless fight with me. They seemed truly nice. Pity I had to end our tryst.

"_Please don't leave. I am sorry." _ I said quietly before fading out of their mortal view.

They looked around the room bewildered and wary. Sam took out a small hand-held contraption which had tiny bright lights on them. They lit up in various ways as he swept around the room with it, and the sound that emitted from the machine seemed to grow higher in pitch whenever it got close to me.

They said something about getting another room till morning came and coming back to dig up some bones later. It upset me that they were going away so soon, like the others.

At least they didn't seem to intend on breaking the door on their way out like the previous petrified tenants.

Dean suddenly realized that no other rooms were available to rent and Sam moaned about dreading to spend the night in the Impala. What was an Impala, I wondered. Perhaps it was a sheltering too, like a tent?

They decided to stay the night and keep an eye out for the "pretty see-through thing". These were Dean's words- I'd like to point out. Even though they an unusual choice of words, I felt it was a compliment and felt a tiny flutter of joy. Sam went on to add that I looked very young and perhaps I'd have grown to be a very beautiful woman had I had the chance. It made me so happy that I couldn't help myself… I unintentionally made the curtains flutter for a few fleeting moments and the lights dimmed for a bit before they all settled again.

The brothers whipped their heads around, tensing up more than before. I quickly tried to contain my joy. It was a little tiring to keep my excitement bottled up. Being referred to as something beautiful was not something I had experienced in many, many years.

It's not difficult to make a girl happy, if you mean the nice things you say to her- no matter how odd.

They decided to stay the night anyway. I heaved a sigh of relief and quickly gathered myself as I grinned from ear to ear. I was finally going to have some company who wasn't hell bent on running out of the room in their pajamas. It was like having guests. If only I could tend to them and make them feel at home.

I lingered around the farthest corners of the room, staying as much away as possible from their immediate vicinity. It was difficult to withhold myself from reaching out time to time because I wanted to take care of them. Every part of my being was dying to see to their comfort and I was dying of eagerness to help them in their work. But if I was not careful, there was a good chance that I'd scare them, or in their particular case, offend them and make them leave.

I was stuck in a dilemma between staying out of their way and helping them at the same time.

I tried to be subtle when I assisted them in the faintest of tasks- I gently nudged the book Sam was trying to grab while keeping his eyes fixed on the lighted window of the alphabet-board. I stopped Dean's beer bottle from tipping over when he accidently knocked it over with his elbow while watching something on the magical box they seemed to call television in the past. I believe they called it TV now. Funny how language changes over time.

I kept the door from slamming shut while the boys took turns in the bath. It was a windowless room and people were prone to losing consciousness if they stayed in for too long. I was too busy fighting the blush that crept up my cheeks to even dare to throw a careless glance their way, and I would mind it very much if people assumed I was spying on them. Good heavens no.

I gently pulled up the sheets to cover their chests and necks as they slept. I might be immune to diseases now, but I couldn't let the ones vulnerable to the elements of nature fall sick. Dean took a longer time to fall asleep than Sam and it got me thinking that he must have been looking after his brother from a much longer time than a child usually does. It was a heart-melting thought. Even though Dean and I were the older siblings, he reminded me of my younger sister. She was the one who always took care of me because I was sick all the time. In true custom, I should have been the one to be doing all the night-watches and soup-making.

I sat on the chair that Sam had vacated after he stopped his study. It was easier to watch them like this and I could be at their side in a moment's passing if they needed anything. I decided to take the risky plunge of being less on guard since they were sleeping. But if I got too involved in my emotions I ended up turning the room cold and they would both curl up a little, like little boys, in response to the drop in temperature. In spite of finding them adorable like this, I had to contain myself for fear of making them catch a cold.

I was taking great pleasure from having some company around who weren't as scared of me as the ones before for a change. I smiled to myself as some of my old memories came to me.

It wasn't before long that Dean began to sleep-talk. At first it was very cute, but that changed soon. He began to whimper, seemingly in distress and fear.

I didn't know what to do.

I was at his side in an instant, putting a hand on his head to comfort him. To my dismay, he shrank back from my touch even in his unconscious state. I couldn't blame him. My touch was cold after all. I looked on as he began to toss around the bed slightly, scrunching his closed eyes as though enduring great pain or witnessing some unearthly horror.

I was at a loss. What could I do to bring that peaceful look back on his flawless face?

_Perhaps Sam could help, _I thought as I turned to flit over his bed to wake him up. I didn't have to lift a finger. Sam was already calling out to his brother to wake him up. Not getting the desired response, Sam quickly got out of bed and I did a quick invisible act before his hands reached the lights.

In my time we'd have to get candles or a burning lamp but these days all it took was a flick of a switch. I had learnt to turn invisible in the blinking of an eye to match up to the present world's pace.

As I was mulling over my thoughts Sam had reached Dean and was gently shaking his shoulder, trying to wake him. Dean mumbled something incoherently and his whimpers got louder. I felt the increasing desperation in his sleep-slacked voice as he moaned for something to stop and pleaded to not hurt him anymore.

Sam was clutching on to the collar of Dean's clothing and was shaking him a little harder while whispering frantic, yet soothing words of reassurance.

"_Sammy… Sammy, please help me…"_ Dean was sniveling, a sound that made my eyes well up _"… make it stop Sam, please…"_

Sam had a look of disbelief in his eyes. I saw that his own eyes were getting glazed over as he gently put his arms around his brother's trembling frame and got his brother's face in the crook of his neck. He held on tightly to his brother as his brother started to sob softly. Dean responded by grabbing hold of the clothing material around his brother's sides and crumpling it in a death grip. Sam seemed to notice and his tears spilled over the delicate eye-lashes, clumping the individual strands together.

He was whispering words of care and reassurance that he was right there and he was not going to let his brother hurt anymore. He was rocking gently and making sure his brother was getting the care he was giving him.

Dean seemed to relax and his whimpering stopped. The younger brother gently released his brother from their hug and tried to put him to bed as quietly as possible without waking him up. He had just placed him back on the pillow when Dean's sleepy eyes cracked open in nearly indiscernible slits and mumbled his brother's name.

"_Sam? Is that you?"_

Sam's face was immediately covered in shame as though he had broken a rule. He swallowed subtly.

"_Yeah Dean?"_ he backed away from his brother a bit.

"_Thank goodness Sammy…"_ Dean replied pleadingly, making my heart go out to him, _"Get me out of here Sam. They are going to start again. I don't- I don't… I can't stand it anymore Sammy!"_

Sam was back to comforting his brother as soon as his confusion was replaced by a look of urgency- his brother was still in the grasp of the nightmare.

Dean began to whimper and moan even more as he said the flames were burning his raw flesh. Without a moment's hesitation, Sam ran in to the bathroom and came out with a wash cloth and a small bucket of water.

He spoke soothingly to an agonized Dean, placing the washcloth on his sweaty forehead with the hope that his brother would get some kind of comfort if he felt it against his skin.

If the nightmares could feel real, he was going to kick their intangible asses with real, physical remedies. Nothing was going to get his brother.

I stared and watched in amazement as the older brother fell quiet and began to snore lightly after a few minutes.

Sam had a relieved and grateful look on his haggard face. He returned the washcloth and the bucket to their places and climbed into bed, turning to look at his brother one last time before saying something that shook me to the core.

"_You never should have made that deal with the demons, Dean. I wish I could make you forget your time in hell… I didn't deserve to be saved, and you definitely didn't deserve to fall into the fiery pit. "_

A look of pure shame and desperation came upon his face.

"_I'm sorry big brother."_

I waited till they were both blissfully asleep before manifesting in a visible form, taking care not to turn the room too cold. I sat down on the chair and looked at the heart-warming sight before me, feeling the corners of my lips turn up in a soft smile.

I wondered about the nights when my little sister had to stay awake to care for me.

Did I ever make her as worried as Sam was for his brother?

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**Please tell me know if this was good or bad *looks up with the pleading air of a puppy-eyed Sam* Should I continue?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's the second and final part :) hope you like it as much as you liked the first!**

**Reviews are like medals. It won't hurt to give me some :) Doesn't matter what type, please leave me some. I really appreciate constructive criticism too!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or anything or anyone related to it; I do own the plot of my story and everything that comes with it :)**

**Happy reading!**

_Part-II._

I wondered about the nights when my little sister had to stay awake to care for me.

Did I ever make her as worried as Sam for his brother?

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For the first time, the night didn't feel as lonely as it had for the past three hundred years. When the morning light came I knew it was best that I stayed out of view. I could take a ghostly nap since there was hardly anything else to do.

I waited till they woke up. Dean slowly opened his mesmerizing hazel eyes and immediately turned to look at his brother. Satisfied to find the colossal gentle being snoring softly, he smacked his lips and reached up to rub his sleepy eyes.

I was irrevocably falling for them. It made me happy and sad at the same time. I couldn't even touch them without causing them to get goose bumps. There was nothing I could do.

My eyesight began to get clouded over and I took it as a cue to make another disappearing act.

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I waited and waited. I had done more than a hundred years' waiting but it was never this despairing. Nothing could bring me peace as I impatiently waited for them to return. I flitted around the room, hovering over their simple belongings and looking at them in acute interest. I passed a transparent hand through the clothes they had left in a corner of the bathroom to be washed later. I'd have gladly done it but I was not very strong and couldn't go very far from the room. The laundry place was at the other end of the motel.

I resorted to making their tousled slept-in beds, and got their coffee mugs and breakfast mess cleaned up. They seemed to have been on an urgent task as they left early morning. I was happy to pick up after them. It gave me a sense of importance, a feeling of belongingness which I had so earnestly craved for all this time.

Sometimes I gently floated above the spot where my bed had been and let myself float down on it. Funnily though, the bed that had replaced mine was the one Dean slept in. I tried to make myself as tangible as I could as I passed my hand over the pillows and sheets. I breathed in his faint scent and felt my tears returning.

Why did I have to stay around this place for so long with the worst kind of loneliness imaginable only to fall hopelessly in love with a man I couldn't even placate from his nightly horrors? Sometimes my tears could actually take on a physical form. I levitated off the bed, not wanting to dampen the pillows with my tears and arouse suspicion. They had been gone a long time and it was already dark.

_They should be coming back any moment,_ I tried to calm myself down as I waited impatiently for some more time. It was a sweet feeling of pain… how silly I sounded, I observed laughing giddily as I hugged myself and danced around the four corners of the room. I let go off my inhibitions and got the curtains swaying in a strong breeze. Some of the furniture also shifted out of their places and the lights flickered softly, in spite of their switches being turned off.

I waltzed around in unexplainable ecstasy with the painting of my sister and me in my hand. She would have been very happy too. How I wished I could share my happiness with her!

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I didn't have to wait long. I had just about calmed down when they returned. It was time for another invisible act; with my new-found treasure trove of bliss and delight, it was difficult to contain myself. I had to wait till they were settled back in from their hard day's work before I could try talking to them. It laughed quietly as they stared in amazement at the made beds and cleared dishes. _Boys. _

Was this how a newlywed bride felt on the morning after the wedding? I had no idea to know but I was sure this was close to the exquisite feeling.

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I waited till they had showered and eaten their meal. Dean was looking quite pleased with their job as was Sam. They were relaxing with some beer and going over the events of the day. I followed their conversation and was fascinated as well as intrigued. If it was any way to apologize for all the times I had been sad and upset all this time, I was grateful that my long journey of loneliness was rewarded with such an unexpected reason for contentment.

They were going on about some difficult case they had some time back. Soon the conversation took a lighter tone and they were sharing amusing anecdotes and laughing heartily. It was like music to my ears.

I felt it was time to try to talk to them again. I slowly made myself visible and tangible before them.

"_Forgive me for intruding…" _ I started but didn't get far before both of them jumped back and some really harsh words emitted forth Dean's lips.

"_**Son of a bitch! What the hell?"**_ Dean yelled out reaching for his gun and pointing it at me. I was appalled. What was wrong with today's world?

Sam gave a startled grunt before recovering and grabbing the jar I had seen him handle before. He opened it quickly and threw a handful of the white grains at me.

It all happened so fast that I didn't get any chance to ask anything. As the white substance fell on me I felt a strange sensation and the next thing I knew I was across the room, slightly dazed.

They were searching around the room, taking each step with utmost caution. I tried to get up from my crumpled position but I fell back as a spell of dizziness hit me. A weak moan escaped as I tried my best to sit up.

"_Dean, over here…_ I heard Sam say as slow careful footsteps came towards me and stopped a short distance away. I looked up and saw their concerned yet careful faces. It wasn't long before Sam softened and kneeled down beside me, just out of reach.

"_Sam, what are you doing? She's a ghost for heaven's sake!"_ Dean hissed at his brother.

"_She looks hurt Dean, I gotta see."_ Sam's reply was calm yet cautious.

"_So you gotta do a freakin' Florence Nightingale? You gotta be kidding me!"_

Who or what is Florence Nightingale? There was so much I wanted to ask; so much I wanted to tell. I sadly realized that perhaps I was not going to get any opportunity for that.

"_Dean… you got my back, right? If she gets violent or attacks me, just do what you gotta do okay?"_

Dean frowned as he muttered something in agreement.

Thank goodness for small mercies. I smiled as Sam turned back to me.

"_Are you alright? What's your name?"_ I had heard his soft voice before but it was nothing like hearing him speak to me directly.

His eyes were the same green as his brother's but they had an immeasurable amount of tenderness in them. I don't know how to start describing the incredible depth of kindness in his eyes. One might say I was seeing too much and reading too deep into them. Well I was willing to sound like a lovelorn dove.

"_I am Annabelle. Thank you for asking… I feel a little tired."_

It felt odd to hear my voice in a conversation. I think I sounded different than the time when I was still… in flesh and blood. I was too filled with elation to really care about how I sounded. Although I was worried that I was not looking my best. I ran a hand over my braids to make sure they were in place.

Dean gave a small smile but he didn't lower the gun.

"_She's got the sweets for you little brother."_ Dean laughed in an amused manner. It seemed to elicit a slight blush on Sam's smooth, blemish-free face. I quickly realized that I was giving the wrong impression.

"_I beg your pardon if I have made you feel ostracized. I have taken a liking to you also."_ I tried to appease him, hoping to soothe the disappointment which he had hidden behind a brave face.

Sam laughed this time. He seemed to derive great delight from seeing his brother turn a shade of crimson.

Dean muttered something under his breath and told his brother to shut up. Sam was shaking slightly at the shoulders as he seemed to waver between smiling and keeping himself calm.

I longed to reach and touch Dean's fine-looking features and in my yearning I had floated up to their level and was going towards the young man who could make me feel inexpressible joy just by being his own self. The brothers backed away a good distance as Dean reaffirmed the grip on his gun.

"_Look Lady Ghosty, if you get any closer I'm going to pump you full of iron shots… trust me it ain't pleasant at all."_ Dean warned me, his voice in a low growl.

I stopped and frowned. I resented to be called like that. It irked me so much that one of the lights exploded and the flying bits flew dangerously close to Dean's face. Sam reacted just in time as he pushed his brother away and took the shrapnel on his jaw. The older brother screamed and cast a look so hateful at me that I cringed, feeling like a criminal. Without blinking, he shot me.

I had never felt such intense pain. I am sure I must have screamed like a banshee because the looks on their faces said so. Then everything went black.

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I was floating in a black void. Time seemed to stand still… no, it was more like time did not exist at all, did not matter. As I strained to look for light, any pin prick of brightness, I began to sense something calling me. It was more like a strong pull and I tried to fight it. It really scared me when I realized I was at the mercy of it as my struggles proved futile. I saw a round disc of light which grew wider and wider as I got pulled closer and closer to it. In a few moments it grew as wide as the entire space around me and it completely obliterated the darkness which had surrounded me.

When I was completely washed by the light I felt a change in the air around me. It was getting warmer and warmer till it got very hot and I let out an uncomfortable cry of pain. Soon I began to hear voices. They faded in and out, haunting my senses as they came and went. Finally the light began to wane and I found myself back in the room.

I felt a new jolt of happiness as I saw the brothers again. But it did not last long. I took a peek at Sam and instantly felt a sharp pierce of guilt. A side of his face was covered in dressing, just below his eye. I averted my eyes in shame. They were standing by the table on which some materials and a large lighted bowl of fire was placed. I tried to walk to them but found my feet planted on the ground. There were some strange writings on the floor arranged in a circle and I was right in the center of it. I looked at them, puzzled. The distant look in Dean's eyes made me feel hurt.

"_Why can I not move? Please don't hurt me…"_ I said with a strong sense of remorse as I looked at Sam's face, _"Forgive me, I did not mean to do that."_

Sam shook his head slowly, as though trying to say it was okay. Dean's face softened the slightest bit when he heard me, but it soon went back to wearing that hateful face that broke my heart a second time.

"_That's what happens when you linger around for too long. You don't mean to do some things but you end up doing them anyway because you have no control over yourself." _Dean explained, _"You nearly blinded my brother in one eye. I am sure you did not intend it. But that means you have to move on before worse things happen."_

The room fell into still silence. What kind of worse things was he talking about?

"_As a spirit, when you stay back for too long you change. Whether you want to or not, and no matter how much you may fight it, you will get worse as time passes. At first you will be lonely and pensive. Then as more time passes, you will get more and more frustrated… till one day you turn into one angry ghost. It is usually too late by then for a spirit to revert back to normalcy."_ Dean seemed to feel what I was thinking and he explained in a gentle tone which I really appreciated.

"_We can help you, Annabelle. We can help you to move on."_

Sam's voice was kind and considerate.

I looked at them and felt myself plummeting into a pit of agony. If I moved on, did it mean I would never see them again?

"_What happens when we move on?" _I asked.

Dean shifted unsurely as he seemed to ponder on the question. Sam took one glance at his brother and turned to me.

"_Honestly, we don't know. But we believe it is better than turning into an angry vengeful ghost. We can't even talk to them like we are able to talk to you… they lose their senses and only exist as wrathful spirits hell bent on hurting the ones who happen to disturb them."_

_Would I turn into one of them too?_ I thought sadly. A single tear rolled down my cheek as something came to mind.

"_Will I see you again, if I move on?"_ I asked without thinking.

A wave of surprise washed over them. They smiled together. I couldn't help but smile back. It was pure joy to see the kind look in their eyes.

"_I don't know… why do you ask?" _Sam enquired politely.

I began to blush as I got close to making my confession. It was the moment that would reveal everything. Better now or never. And I was sure it was _never_ for my case.

I swallowed shyly before answering.

"_I like you… Dean."_ I whispered as I felt my cheeks heat up. I wonder if that could really happen in ghosts like real people.

I kept my eyes on the floor as I waited for the words to sink in. the silence was starting to stifle me.

"_Say something to her. Don't just stand there Dean." _Sam reprimanded his older brother, _"She probably hasn't been spoken to all these years. Be nice."_

"_Oh sure! Why don't I do the tango with her, huh Sam?"_ Dean retorted spitefully.

It would have been good if he had outright refused to answer me. It hurt to be talked about when I could hear every word.

I couldn't control myself as I made the lights flicker again. Only this time it was not soft. They clicked on and off in an annoying intensity making it look as if the building was in an earthquake and the furniture began to scrape along the floors. Don't ask about the windows, let alone the curtains. They flew open and the panes cracked and shattered. I knew I was doing it but I wasn't able to stop till the whole room was filled with broken glass and the furniture was in a mess.

"_**Dean! You can get through to her! Just try!"**_ Sam's urgent voice brought me back to reality and after a few aftershocks and tremors, I calmed down.

I understood I was being an extra addition to this world and I needed to move on. I was being selfish by staying behind and not choosing to move on. I had disrupted the balance of the world long enough, it was time I set things right.

"_It's okay, it's okay. I understand now."_ I said with tears of revelation threatening to spill over, _"I'll move on, like you said. Help me, please."_

"_Annabelle… "_ Sam whispered my name sadly.

"_I'm fine with moving on, really."_ I said truthfully. It felt like a weight being lifted off my chest. A weight I had carried for three hundred years.

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Sam and Dean explained everything that I needed to know. That brought up a new question. I had no remains left, how was I going to… rest?

Dean asked if there was something that I really treasured left behind. Before I could answer, Sam went over and lifted my painting off the hook.

"_Is this you?"_

"_Yes. With my sister."_

Sam gave an understanding nod. _"This is what is keeping you here."_

Dean took it from him and took a few minutes before speaking again.

"_It's such a masterpiece. Pity we'll have to burn it."_

My heart clenched at the thought of my fondest memory going up in flames. I said it was okay; they had to do what was necessary to set me free.

My love for them grew a thousand fold at Sam's next actions.

"_We can keep a picture of it. That way, it will still remain even if we burn the original." _He offered tentatively.

I felt the smile spreading across my face like the way the morning sun would light up my room.

"_I would like that. It's a wonderful idea. Thank you Sam."_ I said gleefully.

He smiled shyly as he took out a small contraption from his pocket. It was one of those small machines the people of today used to speak to other people. He carefully took out the aged canvas from the frame and set it on the table. He then brought the contraption in front of my painting and I heard a distinct, sharp click.

He held it in front of me and showed he the result. There was a small window on it with a miniature version of my painting. Amazing!

"_Are you ready, Annabelle?"_ Dean asked, taking my name for the first time.

"_Yes."_

My painting was put into the bowl. They got a match to light it. Just before doing so, Dean apologized.

"_What are you apologizing for?" _ I asked, puzzled.

"_I shouldn't have been so rude. I hope you find peace."_ He said quietly.

"_I hope so too, Dean."_

"_Good bye Annabelle." _ They said in unison.

Sam lit the match and put it into the bowl.

"_Good bye Sam." _ I smiled at him gratefully before turning to Dean, _"Good bye… my love."_

As the flames grew, I started to feel a slight burn in my chest. They had told me that they didn't know if it was going to feel alright or unpleasant. It wasn't a joy ride, but it wasn't so bad. They had prepared me for whatever was coming, so I was ready.

I began to feel lighter and sensed my grasp on the living world start to dissipate. It was time to move on, finally.

I looked at them with a grateful heart. I wasn't sad or scared anymore. I would reach where I was supposed to be. And who knows, I may get to see my family again.

All of a sudden, Dean ran over to me and took my hand carefully. He looked as if he was afraid to break me. He reckoned for a split second before he took my hand to his lips and kissed it.

My first. So what if it was not on the lips?

He let go just in time as I felt myself phasing out of the living world. I caught a last glimpse of their heart-warming smiles. It had been a wonderful first after-life.

Now I was looking forward to my second.

.

.

.

I swam through a soundless, wall-less white space for sometime before I saw finally saw a door. It opened to a beautiful golden light and someone stood at the threshold. Intrigued as well as apprehensive, I swam for it harder till I found myself a few feet in front of it. I settled back on my feet. Taking it as a hint, I walked to the door slowly, keeping my eyes on the person standing at it.

At first I didn't recognize her. She was a beautiful woman and looked vaguely familiar.

Then she smiled.

And I instantly knew.

My little sister. All grown up.

I don't care if it doesn't turn out in any way I am hoping for it. It can't be bad.

All I know is I have two wonderful boys to look over and watch out for. They took care of me when I had no one. It would do them good to have a friend among the stars.

'

'

'

_~FIN~_

**That wraps it up people! Ridiculously huge chocolate cookies and ice-lollipops to reviewers :D you know what you gotta do!**


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